


Life Goes On

by frechi123



Series: The Outsiders: The Aftermath of the Week [1]
Category: The Outsiders - S. E. Hinton
Genre: Been having this idea for a while now, Bob Lives, Continuation of "the Eventful Week", Dallas lives, Gen, Johnny lives, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-12 01:29:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12948378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frechi123/pseuds/frechi123
Summary: Life still passes by - even for the Outsiders gang. Nothing new ever felt like it was going on, since... well, that one week - that is, until three new Socy girls enter the picture. The only thing is that the middle one became a greaser, the oldest one stayed a Soc, and the little one got caught in between. Oh, and did we mention the youngest has been friends with Dallas Winston since she was three?How they all meet couldn't have been any weirder if they tried. Can the gang accept the Benson sisters - with all their similarities to them - or will they run them all the way back to crazy old Windrixville, filled with more crazy psychos after them?





	1. Parallel Universe

**Author's Note:**

> WHY DIDN'T I TRY TO FIND THIS FANDOM SOONER?!
> 
> Also, this is sort of a 'What If?' taking place after Ponyboy turns the assignment in, meaning that Johnny and Dallas aren't dead here. At the moment, Johnny is in a wheelchair and Dallas's arm is still broken. Bob isn't dead either, but he's sort of traumatized after the whole stabbing incident.
> 
> Despite most of the Socs getting along with some of the greasers, they don't like the Benson girls (my creation) very much.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected Socy visitor sets the greasers on edge. But right when they're about to give her what for, Dallas appears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter they will meet Maybelline, a week after the book's events and one year prior to where the real story starts, as I had written it when I merged it with the original story.

*****one year ago*****

It was always the same, nothing ever happened.

Well, except for last week - the one week that changed everything.

Like how Johnny ended up in a wheelchair.

And how Bob was nearly terrified of hurting any of us greasers anymore, since he found out what one of us could actually do to a Soc.

Don't even get me started on Dallas, either - only one broken arm and his emotions are a mess for some reason. He's way more violent than he used to be - when he could use both arms.

Weird, right?

Well, as far as weirdness went for us greasers, the Socs weren't threatening us like they used to anymore. We'd actually made friends with some of them - Marcia, Randy, Cherry, and even Bob - while the rest of them merely tolerated or feared us. I wasn't sure which I preferred. I'll get back to you.

It was just another Saturday night for us greasers, or it was supposed to be, at least. We were playing a three on three game of football - it was me, Tim and Sodapop against Two-Bit, Curly and Steve. The Shepards had taken to hanging out with us a lot more often those days, still into now, even going as far as to leave their current gang (passing leadership on to those Brumlys) and joining ours. Tonight, Darry decided to stay inside, reading the paper. Johnny was spectating from a safe distance in his wheelchair since he couldn't play anymore, and Dally promised to be quickly on his way over - after yet another argument with his old man.

The score was neck in neck. If Soda could make this touchdown right now without Steve tackling him, we'd win. Otherwise, Steve would remain undefeated. Someone's gotta knock this boy off his high horse.

Tim held the ball down, with Soda and Steve squaring off on each other. Two-Bit, Curly and I were respectable distances away from them on our respective sides of the empty front street.

"Ready?" asked Tim, and the challengers nodded their heads. "GO!"

Right as they were about to charge at the ball, however, we all heard the shuffling of footsteps, coming from quite close. They skidded to a halt so they didn't crash into each other. We all froze and turned in the direction in which it came, which was up the street approaching our house. There was a tiny voice calling out every so often as they came closer, and if I didn't know any better I'd say it was calling Dallas's name.

"Y'all hear that?" asked Johnny, from his wheelchair, now a bit on edge. Who could blame him? This sort of thing always set him off when he could still walk.

I nodded, and Steve said, "Who is it? Is it Dallas?"

"No..." said Two-Bit, shaking his head, even if he sounded unsure. "Why would Dallas be callin' his own name?"

"And that voice was a girl's, I'm sure," Soda added, starting to reach for the front pocket of his reliable jeans. My eyes got huge; was he really about to consider pulling a blade on this girl?

Tim noticed, and hissed quietly, loud enough for him to hear, "Don't you _dare_ pull out any switchblades, Sodapop Curtis. We're not like that anymore," and Curly added, "You would really pull a switchblade on a _girl_? Soc or greaser, that's just not right, period."

Soda sighed in defeat, lowering his hands. The figure started coming into the streetlight. Pale hands appeared on the pole, gripping it tightly, almost... hesitantly? Then they pulled the figure under the light, and sure enough it was a young girl as Soda had said. She looked no older than twelve. Her fiery red hair cascaded down her shoulders, nearly to her waist. Her face was covered in varying sized scars, most notable going from her temple to cheekbone (like Johnny's). She was shivering, despite the furry hooded jacket she wore over her sleeveless white shirt. Her pink poodle skirt stopped just above her ankles, probably so she didn't trip on it as she walked in her ankle winter boots. 

_Yeah, she's definitely a Soc,_ I thought, suddenly feeling angry. _It's not even quite winter, and she's wearing all that? More importantly... why do they think they can just waltz in here like they own the place, like nothing's changed?_

I didn't even think about what I shouted next. "Hey!" I yelled at her, and she turned around quickly, with a horrified look on her face. "Don't you know this ain't your territory? Why do you people think you can just come in here like you own the place?! Things have changed, you know!"

No one even stopped me. Honestly, they should have, but they didn't.

Her face was tinged with a bit of confusion. Mine was swelling in anger. Deciding not to use my head, as usual (Darry would have been so disappointed to hear that), I charged right at her. She screamed, louder than anyone in this neighborhood ever did, turning to run away, into the nearest house - which was ours, obviously. She threw open the door (like I've said, we never locked it) and slammed it shut. I reached the window and looked in. As soon as everyone else caught up, looking in the window with me, we saw Darry's face go from surprise to confusion to intense anger as he jumped up from the armchair, throwing the paper from his hands, and stared her down. Seeing as she didn't bother to lock the door behind her, we all came into the house one after the other: first me, then Tim, then Steve who was also wheeling Johnny, then Curly, and finally Soda and Two-Bit at the same time. We circled around her, ultimately trapping her.

"You wanna explain to us what you're doin' here, this far into the East Side?" asked Two-Bit, as calmly as he could, ultimately failing. Her mouth moved without words coming out. Right when she looked about to say something, she somehow burst through the circle, running down the hall to the nearest room - mine and Soda's. Me and him ran after her until we found her trapped in the corner behind the bed, shivering in fear. We both rushed her, each of us grabbing one of her arms. She didn't even bother struggling against us and went limp, head hanging down as we dragged her back out to the living room, hosting her slightly into the air.

When we came back into the room, dragging the Socy girl along, the front door was open and Dallas was standing there in the doorway with a look of confusion as he looked at all of us, probably wondering what the hell was going on. When he saw the girl, he cocked an eyebrow (as Two-Bit would have normally done), scratching his head, tilting his head in confusion and pointing at her. Then he finally asked, "What have ya got there?"

"You tell us," said Steve, pointing at her with his comb. "Slinking around in the shadows like she could hide from us. She was even calling your name, Dally. Do you know her?"

Dallas was about to shrug when the girl's head whipped up upon hearing his name. "Dally? Dally Winston? Is that really you?" she said with utmost shock, staring at him in amazement. "I can't believe I finally found you..."

He was just as amazed as the girl, tilting his head in surprise this time. "May Belle?" was all he said.

She nodded, tears starting to form in her eyes. She broke free from our grip to run into Dally's now outstretched arms as he embraced her. "It's been 3 years since I saw ya last... how have ya been?" she managed to ask while weeping. 

Dallas didn't shed any tears, but he still sounded choked up. "I've been better, May Belle... getting better... you staying out of trouble, kid?"

She held him at arm's length, being careful as to not hold onto his injured arm very tightly. "Been tryin'." Then she glanced at his arm. "How'd you break it this time?"

Dally chucked. "Another time, May Belle."

Meanwhile, all the rest of us stared at them, utterly confused. "Dallas?" Soda said finally. "You want to introduce us to your little friend here?"

He turned to the rest of us and threw his good arm across her shoulders. "This is Maybelline Benson. Known her for 4 years since New York. Tried my hardest to keep her out of trouble but she insisted on finding it anyway. She did hang around me a lot, after all."

Maybelline chuckled. "You never leave a friend behind, Dally. You know that."

"Well, what's a nicely dressed lady like yourself doin' all the way out here in greaser county?" asked Two-Bit, gesturing to Maybelline's outfit. "You been lookin' for ol' Dallas?"

Dallas lowered his arm as she took off her jacket, revealing the sleeves of her shirt to have been torn off. Angry scars ran up her arms. "Ever since we moved into this town, I've been looking," she said. "My oldest sister, Darlene, who we call Darla, didn't want me looking, though. She never really liked Dally - said he always got me into trouble. She didn't even know the half of it; he was trying to keep me _out_ of trouble, since I seemed to keep finding it. She used to yell at me over it - and sometimes hit me, if she got really angry. Never really cried, though, I got used to it. And somehow she managed to convince all these West Side fools that we should be treated like them, which should be a downright lie, by the way. We're nothing like those people, we're country girls, from old Windrixville, just a train ride away. You know where that is? It's quite nice out there."

Johnny and I both nodded, having been there before with Dallas. It amazed me how her older sister yelled at her for doing what she wanted, kinda like how Darry used to be towards me - before last week. And the fact that her older sister even hit her reminded me of Johnny's experiences with his father, known for his abusive nature.

"Mom and Dad wanted to move us back out to the city, wanting a change of scenery," she continued, touching her long scar with her hand as she talked. "But they were killed in a crash along the way. Darla, Montse Carla, my second-oldest sister, and I were forced to resort to catching a train all the way here. We were just kinda going where the train took us then. I'm surprised we managed to get here at all."

My eyes widened then, and I'm pretty sure Darry and Soda were just as shocked as me. May Belle and her sisters were paralleling us so much they might as well been us from another universe.

"We arrived on the West Side a few months ago, and then we were taken hostage by those Socials - Socs for short, at least I think that's what they're called - and Darla somehow smooth talked our way out of a beating... somehow, like I mentioned earlier. Next thing you know, we're spending our savings on an overly embellished house that is not necessary for just three of us, and wearing stupid uptight things like them - not even one cent spared to fix up ol' Bessie, my truck. Oh, how I miss her. Montse and I would give anything for jeans skirts over poodle ones, but every time we found something we liked, Darla burned it, or one of those Socials tore it up. It wasn't fair, you know? Montse had enough and defected over to the greasers - she's been hiding out here for the past 3 months and I never see her anymore. I hear from her sometimes, through letters, but since then I never saw her in the flesh. Darla never even got angry at her for that or when she dropped out of school; she just ignored her and moved on."

"Geez," said Soda. "That's kinda like how Darry was to me when I dropped out."

Darry didn't say anything. He merely made a face as May Belle looked on.

"So how'd you end up here?" Johnny asked, head on his hands as he leaned forward a bit. "What made you come here?"

"Last week I saw the paper: 'Juvenile Delinquents Turn Heroes.' I saw some of you in the paper - Ponyboy, Sodapop, Darrel, Johnny, and Dallas, of course." She pointed at each of us as she said our names. "Darla tried to hide it from me and I knew why: the truth of the matter being you all had lived here and most likely still did. I used this as my main lead and went searching." Then she shrugged. "Not exactly how I planned it would all go, but it was all worth it, right?"

I hung my head in embarrassment, ashamed at what I'd done to her. "Don't scare her like that," said Dallas, "this girl's been through too much, seen too much in NYC. Had to get her a psychologist and everything. 'Course Montse called me a hero and Darla couldn'ta tried harder to make me out the villain. Cheered so loudly when they took me away and moved me here. Montse was fairly sad of course, but May Belle here bawled her eyes out."

"It's a psychiatrist, Dal,' she said with a small smile. " And, well, of course I did! I lost my only friend back in those days! Can you imagine having to live without someone who was willing to put up with you because they wanted to and not because they had to?" she said with a sigh.

"Wait," said Curly suddenly. "You said Montse is a greaser now, and Darla is still a Soc, right? What does that make _you_ , then?"

"Well, Curly, that's a complicated situation to explain," she answered. And when he gave her a funny look, probably for knowing his name, she said, "What, you think I haven't heard of your and your brother Tim's old gang before?" He raised his hands in defeat and she continued. "I'm kinda stuck in the middle. I try to follow the greaser way of life, but according to Darla, I 'have no opinions because I'm 12', and so on the Social side I'm still stuck living."

Steve had been combing his hair back into his signature complicated swirls, but lowered his comb now, pausing to ask Maybelline something. "Sounds frustrating. Don't ya ever get sick of it?"

"Well, of course, Steve, but like I said, there's nothing I can really do about that. Can't wait until I'm 13." She looked down at her watch, eyes widening when she saw the time. "Oh no! It's 3 in the morning! Another hour and Darla'll have the police out after me!" She threw on her jacket again, missing the astonished face I made when she said the last statement. "I have to go!"

"Wait! Are we ever gonna see ya again?" asked Two-Bit, cocking his eyebrow as he's known to do.

She shrugged. "Dunno, Keith. You tell me." She giggled when he stared at her dumbfounded. "I know things, Two-Bit. I'm twelve, not stupid!" She raced for the door. "Hope I see you all again!" And with that she was gone.

All of us looked at each other, as if we didn't believe what just happened actually did. Darry broke the silence. "I guess we'd all better hit the hay ourselves, yeah?"

Everyone nodded, too stunned to argue.

We waved goodbye to Dallas, who went with Two-Bit, then Curly and Tim, and finally Steve. Darry promptly went to sleep on the couch, so Soda and I had to wheel Johnny to Darry's room and help him into bed so he could sleep there. The state didn't want Johnny anywhere near his parents anymore, which was a blessing, so we offered to take him. I'm surprised they even let us given our situation anyway.

Once Soda and I reached our own room, we were lying our bed, still awake, lamp light still glaring.

"Hey... Soda?" I called out quietly, not turning to face him.

"Yeah, Pony?"

"Did you think it was so weird how Maybelline's story paralleled ours so much, with some of the gang too and not just us? You know... losing her parents in an auto wreck, middle sibling drops out, oldest sibling yells at them for every little thing, being in Wiindrixville, tortured by Socs, abuse from family..."

He threw his arm across my shoulders, and I turned to face him now. "It's a little odd, gotta admit that," he said. "But this proved your point about your essay thing, right? That the story wasn't just confined to us?"

I nearly forgot about that essay since I turned it into Mr. Syme last week. I couldn't believe that didn't come to me. "You're right, Soda." I move closer until I'm right up on his side. "See, you're not dumb."

He grinned, pulling me closer. "Guess not." Then he yawned. "Good night, Pony."

"Night, Soda," I said, and reached over to turn the lamp off.


	2. This Is My Living

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybelline comes back, as promised, and Dallas, Ponyboy and Johnny want to take her sightseeing. Imagine their shock when they find her oldest sister, Darla, making her the fool of the Socs, while her middle sister, Montse (being called Monserrat by the regulars), is working her way through life by making herself look the fool at Rusty's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The other Benson sisters to be revealed XD
> 
> Darla will be mentioned more come next chapter.
> 
> Also, looks like the trio is once again out and about - featuring Maybelline!
> 
> Note: we're still in the past!

That whistle we knew so well - going low and ending in a high note? Today, it didn't come from us, it was up a tree, only it wasn't a bird, it was Maybelline, once again having to suffer at the hands of her sister Darla and the Socs.

It started out with Dallas meeting us (meaning me and Johnnycake) at the corner of Pickett and Sutton again. We were going to go look for Maybelline (same way as she looked for us) so we could take her sightseeing. We borrowed clothes from the greaser girls so she'd feel more comfortable going with us.

As we walked I couldn't help feeling some déjà vu - when I left the movie house by myself last week I came down this very street when I was jumped by those Socs. I started feeling uneasy, as if something bad was going to happen and we were going to end up in hiding all over again.

And that's when we heard the whistle, followed by a scream. I raced down the far end of the street (got back in shape for track, in which May Belle joined the team of - she's pretty good), ahead of them, and turned the corner to see six Socs - five guys and one girl, none of which I recognized, thank goodness - holding Maybelline hostage. Four of them each grabbed a limb of hers while the other two stood aside, carrying switchblades. The guy held it against her neck while the girl simply stared with a vacant look on her face - it's kinda hard to see, as she was facing away from me.

"Why are you people doing this?!" she yelled at them, as if she didn't have a deadly blade at her throat right now. Man, she is tough. She angled towards the girl, who was still standing aside with a vacant look. "Why can't you just punish me like a normal sister should?!"

The girl - no, woman (she looked as old as Darry) - narrowed her eyes. "You know how embarrassing it is to have you suddenly show up when the police are here?! They thought I was lying, that I was insane!" I couldn't help but notice that, besides the now glaring truth of the matter that this was Darla, Maybelline's oldest sister, she sounded totally fake when she talked - not like May Belle.

"That wasn't my intention!" Maybelline said, only pausing to gulp as the blade was brought softly across her neck, leaving a cut with blood trickling down. Only then did she look up and see me, along with Dallas who had wheeled Johnny as this whole conversation happened. She mouthed a silent cry for help.

She didn't need to; as soon as she looked up, so did the others. They dropped Maybelline and all the guys ran away, away from us. Only Darla remained, and she shot daggers at all of us.

"Why're ya hangin' with trash?" she asked suddenly, peering down at her sister, in the most countriest of accents I'd ever heard. Even though this seemed more real than the Socy act she had just put on, it still seemed fake to some extent.

Maybelline narrowed her eyes as she stood up. "Don't talk about them that way, Darla," she snapped, as she made her way towards us. "They're not trash, you are! At least they're real!"

Darla stomped her foot on the street, and Maybelline turned back to look at her. "We're talking about this later, May Belle. You show up later than 20 minutes tonight and you're sleeping outside!" And with that, she turned primly on her heel and walked away, up the street, stomping her feet as she went. Maybelline turned toward us, only a few feet away, and her eyes were filled with tears.

"Now you see why I hardly talk about being over here...." she said, holding herself and shaking. Dallas and I just stared, in utter disbelief of the situation. Johnny managed to wheel himself over to her, reaching his arms around her best he could, trying to comfort her. Having been used to abuse from his family, he knew exactly how Maybelline was feeling.

After a short while, he held her at arm's length and said, "You know I thought I'd never meet someone who had to deal with family abuse as badly as I have it, maybe even - dare I say - worse than me?"

May Belle chuckled slightly. "I suppose I could say the same - though, in my case, your situation is indeed better than mine."

Dallas and I approached her then. "Ya still want to go see the sights, May Belle?" he asked.

She looked at us with a small smile. "Do I ever."

*********************************

**Maybelline's POV**

At least tonight went smoother! The boys took me all over town, and the Nightly Double was my absolute favorite of them all. We ran into Cherry and Marcia and decided to catch up a bit; Two-Bit even showed up a bit later to hang with us and then went on his way.

After we saw 4 movies (good old Sunday weekend) they took me out to Dingo's which terrified me to no end. All the older guys started hitting on me until Dallas threatened to punch them or Ponyboy offered to cover for me. I'm glad I was out here with them.

We were just approaching Rusty's, me hoping it was better than the last one, when I heard singing coming from inside. I raised an eyebrow as the singing seemed so familiar to me.

Quickly I ran inside. Some greasers paid me more attention than others from bare interest to flat out confused looks. The boys followed in soon after. While Dallas went off to settle something with Tim Shepard, who he had apparently scheduled to meet him here, and Pony and Johnny headed off to the drink bar, I approached the bottom of the stage to watch the dancer, who wasn't singing anymore and constantly looked down as she danced, which confused me.

One of the other confused lookers, a Brumly boy by the looks of it (yeah, I'm pretty good at being able to tell) tapped on me and said, "You know that girl up pretty well?"

"Huh? I've never seen her before," I told him as she prepared to do a single person kick line. The Brumly boy raised both of his eyebrows up in surprise.

"No kiddin'? She looks similar to ya is what I'm sayin'. She coulda been your sister, if ya knew her."

Right when I was about to ask what he meant by that, I was kicked in the head by a flying shoe, which seemed to have come off the dancer, who was staring now with a shocked expression. I fell to the ground.

"May Belle!" cried Pony, who ran over and knelt down to look at my now swollen eye. "Are you okay?!"

I nodded. "I'm fine, Pony, it's not that bad."

"Hey!" yelled the Brumly up to the dancer girl. "Ya gotta watch where ya kick that - Wait, you finally looked up again!"

Wait, again?

"I'm so sorry!"

That voice. I recognized it immediately. My head whipped up to stare at the girl, who was now looking straight at me, astonished.

"Montse?!" I cried out. "You're really here?!"

She came running off the stage and embraced me. "May Belle! I've... missed you. It's been too long since I last saw you." She held me out a bit. "Tell me, do you get my letters?"

"Of course, but... what are you doing here?!"

Montse looked down. "I'm not proud of it, if that's what you're asking. I needed money, and there's honestly nowhere else for me to go. The Nightly Double wouldn't even take me..." She bit her lip.

"So you're Montse!" called a voice from behind us. We turned and looked up to see Pony standing there with Johnny right beside him.

She smiled a bit. "Guilty as charged." Then she saw Dallas approaching. "Good to see you again, Dallas."

He held out a hand to help her up and shake. "Likewise, Montse Carla. What are you doing here anyway?"

"Apparently, making a living," I said, exasperated.

Dallas raised his eyebrow in surprise. “You work here??” he said in astonishment.

She nodded. "Yeah... I'm not awful proud of it."

"Why don't you come home?" I asked. At this, Montse raised an eyebrow and narrowed her eyes.

"You know perfectly well why I will not come home," she said. "Because there is no home to go to. Those twisted up expectations of the Socs? That is _not_ home, no matter how much Darla tries to insist it is."

I sighed. "I guess. But I miss you. Having you send letters is nice, but it's not the same."

Dallas snapped his fingers. "Why don't you stay with Pony and them? I'm sure they wouldn't mind, would ya, Pony?"

"Yeah, I wouldn't, and Soda probably not either, but she'd have to get through Darry first," he said. "You think she can handle that?"

Johnny shrugged. "He can't be any worse than  _Darla_."

"Oh, he's _much_ more mellow than Darla, Montse, take it from me," I said. "He didn't even try to hurt me when he first saw me."

Montse raised an eyebrow. "You're going to have to tell me that story later. My shift's over, so let me go change and I'll head out with y'all." She turned on her heels and marched off to the back.

Pony tilted his head. "Wow, your sister's pretty cool. She kinda reminds me of Soda."

"Are you kidding? If you swapped Soda's gender and job preferences you'd basically have Montse," Johnny said, a bit incredulous. "Kinda like if you put Darry more on edge, he could turn into Darla if you were persistent enough. Your siblings are so much like Pony's, it's basically witchcraft, May B!"

I laughed. "This ain't the Salem Witch Trials, J.C. But yeah, I get what you mean."

"Here I am!" Montse's voice floated over to us. We turned 

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure if I'll write romance cause I suck at it, but if you guys want to see some, I'll try.
> 
> Anyway, just tell me what you thought of this opening chapter ^_^


End file.
